Nicole Matthews

[SapphicCurves]

Meagan watched from her timekeeper’s position at the announcer’s table as Nicole Matthews slowly pushed herself off the mat and staggered back against the ropes in an attempt to catch her breath.

Meagan knew Nicole’s fatigue wasn’t kayfabe; the Canadian wrestler had been going nonstop for over an hour in an ironman match, battling through two women and one man in the process. Her lone remaining opponent was a large 230-pound red-haired Alabamian woman that, while lacking in the Canadian’s exquisite wrestling skills, easily outmatched her for raw power. And she was pushing the brunette for everything she was worth.

Meagan swallowed as the area lights glittered off the Canadian, her pale skin glistening with sweat. The bulge of Nicole’s belly swelled with every gasping breath, a bead of perspiration dangling precariously from the brunette’s nose.

Nicole Matthews was exhausted.

But the scouts from the WWE were present at ringside – a fact Meagan had furtively revealed to the brunette just before the match, in violation of company orders.

It had been a risk to be sure – but she wanted to be sure that the Canadian would give it everything she had. After all, at 31, it was realistically Nicole’s last chance at cracking the major circuit – a fact not lost on the brunette.

And she was pushing herself beyond her limits in order to catch the scouts’ notice.

And it was working. Before the match, Nicole had ditched her full-body outfit in favour of her old wrestling duds, to fantastic effect – her bare midriff had thickened considerably in the previous two years and was practically spilling over her beltline.

Though still billed at 140 pounds, there was no doubt the brunette had packed on a considerable amount of weight since her rookie days in SuperGirls Wrestling. Her bulging midsection, fuller breasts and thick arms all hinted at a good 40 pound gain, possibly more.

And her conditioning was deficient – to say the least. Her goldfish-esque gasping was testament enough to that fact, even without the continuous rivulets of sweat coating her doughy flesh.

Meagan’s eyes danced through the vociferous crowd; all eyes were on Nicole. Men, women, it didn’t matter. All were captivated by the brunette’s glistening softness.

It was a fact not lost on the pro scouts, who were busily scribbling down notes.

Their presence was unusual in and of itself; few 30-something women had ever graduated to the WWE – by and large, females of Nicole’s age who had yet to make the Bigs were generally fated to play out the string in the indie circuits.

Yet there they were – and there Nicole was, on the possible cusp of long-awaited stardom.

Despite her body’s flaccidity, the Canadian’s technical skills skill shone as brightly as the gleaming sweat on her skin. She could still pull off jaw-dropping moves, like suplexing a woman perhaps fifty pounds her better – but it was pushing her to her limits.

As the Alabamian woman grabbed hold of Nicole’s forearm before throwing her to the mat, Meagan found herself wondering just how much longer the Canadian could go on – and whether there was a real chance of the brunette’s heart bursting from the strain.

Gods, if she were to go into arrest right there…

She licked her lips.

The massive redhead performed a leg drop, Nicole’s pale limbs jerking out in perfectly-timed response.

The Alabamian got to her feet and grabbed a fistful of Nicole’s hair. Hauling the brunette up from the mat, she flung the Canadian hard into a corner. Meagan gasped inwardly as the lights caught the mass of sweat explode from the brunette’s damp mane.

Nicole staggered backward a few steps before performing a reverse somersault, striking the larger woman with both legs and knocking her back into the far ropes. The crowd roared in approval.

But her advantage was fleeting. The Alabamian used the ropes as a catapult to launch herself at her opponent.

Nicole sidestepped, but not quite quickly enough. The redhead’s arm shot out and grasped the right strap of Nicole’s top, using her weight and motion to fling the brunette back into the corner.

Only it didn’t quite go to plan.

The strap, stretching from the force being applied to it, gave up the ghost with a loud snap. The crowd gasped.

But the Canadian’s skill was such that she managed to throw herself convincingly into the correct corner, plowing into the turnbuckle with authority.

Meagan was breathing open-mouthed; as Nicole wrapped her arms over the middle ropes and tried to catch her breath, her top clung to her heaving chest by the one remaining, precarious strap. Her right shoulder was completely bare, the pasty flesh glittering with perspiration. The soft, sagging flesh from the underside of her arms were quivering sensuously in rhythm with the ropes.

Breathy, lust-filled moans drifted up from the audience.

The scouts frantically scribbled in their notebooks.

Gods, please let there be another accident like that, thought the timekeeper.

The Alabamian charged.

At the last moment, Nicole ducked, allowing the redhead to crash into the corner turnbuckle. The ring shook from the impact.

The Alabamian staggered back to the centre of the ring. Wiping her brow with the back of her hand, Nicole launched herself at the larger woman.

Using every bit of her weight, she grabbed the larger woman by the arm and applied the fulcrum principle to launch the redhead into the ropes. The Alabamian flopped into the cables and duly bounced back towards the Canadian, who’d planted her feet in anticipation of the coming move.

It was as unexpected as it was unlikely: in a perfectly executed manoeuvre, Nicole hauled the larger woman overhead, the Alabamian bracing her palms against the Canadian’s shoulders.

The redhead’s legs pointed skywards. A vertical suplex.

The crowd gasped anew.

Nicole held the larger woman in position for two, three, four seconds. Her body was shaking with the herculean effort required to hold the weight in a perfectly vertical position. But she was giving the WWE scouts quite a show – they were openly gaping at the woman’s physical strength.

After five seconds Nicole’s arms had said their final No, and the Alabamian crashed to the mat. The brunette flopped to the mat and quickly rolled the larger woman over onto her back.

Hooking a thick, soft arm around the redhead’s leg, Nicole vigorously nodded in concert with the referee’s count.

One – Two – Thee.

It was over.

Meagan struck the bell to signal the official end of the match.

The crowd cheered.

Nicole, far from circling the ring in triumph, dragged herself up by the ropes and collapsed into a corner, gasping like a landed guppy.

But her supreme effort looked to have paid off. The WWE scouts were in animated discussion.

Meagan jumped up from the timekeeper’s table.

“Where you goin’?” asked the announcer.

But Meagan hadn’t heard over the crowd’s roar – she was already running backstage.

Nicole was going to need a serious massage.

 

[Kaltagstar96]

Holy shit that was amazing, the description of the fic and how you wrote Nicole's body and just the detail was brilliant. I hope to see more of Nicole and Meagan!!

[Hank Scorpio]

Love it! Excellent work. Great attention to detail on the match, Nicole's body and her exhaustion. You definitely have a natural talent for it  

[JFrost147]

I have long dreamed of someone writing a fic about Nicole Matthews - will there be a sequel where we see what happens in her WWE tenure?  Perhaps with Meagan following her?